Familiar Strangers - Part 2
Well, I'm almost done with Part 5. So I should catch up with the posting here, huh?
I wonder if anyone is reading this.
Excerpt:
--
How many kids did he have to watch die? Too many teenage soldiers, too many faces still round with childhood, eyes still bright with invincibility, too many. One son, too many. Punishment for his sins. To watch. Damn the universe for choosing this one, too. He’d known the boy for five hours, now. It wasn’t enough. It was too much.
--
Part 1
Part 2: The Bird Folding Her Wings
When it had been an hour with no sign of pursuit, Jack built a small fire. By that time Obi-Wan was already lost in fever, delirious, stirring restlessly on the blankets. Sometimes he fought against the hands that tried to soothe him, and sometimes he grabbed them and held on with all his strength, panting through his teeth to keep from screaming. Carter’s face gradually became more pale and pinched as the interminable night wore on, and Jack didn’t have to ask to know that she thought the kid might be dying.
Daniel finally succumbed to the lateness and lack of coffee, sacking out on the other side of the cave. Jack took his place at Obi-Wan’s side, holding the trembling hand in his, wiping away the sweat. Teal’c sat cross-legged in kel’no’reem, holding the kid’s head in his lap, bracing the pale face between his rock-steady hands.
“Sir, we have to get Obi-Wan back to the SGC, or he doesn’t stand a chance.” Carter’s voice was low and urgent. “He definitely has internal injuries, and I think he might be bleeding out. Even if we were in the infirmary now, Janet might not be able to save him.”
Jack hated having to make these kind of calls, choosing safety and death over danger and life. But there wasn’t a choice here. He had to explain it, as much for himself as for her. She already knew what he was going to say-she just wanted to hear it from him. “Carter, it’s two miles back to the Stargate. Even if those prison guys have called off the search ‘til daylight, you know they’ve posted guards and search parties all over. They know that Obi-Wan’s gone to ground, and they’re waiting for the slightest hint of where he is so they can swoop in and grab him. We don’t have the manpower or weaponry to fight these guys. Look, I like the kid as much as you do, but I can’t risk the team. If he can just hold on ‘til morning, we’ll be able to scout around and figure out our options.”
Carter shook her head grimly. “I’m not sure Obi-Wan has that long, sir.”
“Sure he does,” Jack said with great confidence. More than he felt. “He’s a tough kid. Toughest I’ve ever met. ‘Cept maybe Skaara.” And Daniel.
She smiled tightly. “Of course, sir.”
Obi-Wan moaned, squeezing Jack’s hand painfully. Jack winced at the sensation of bones grinding together, but squeezed back, letting him know he wasn’t alone. “Hey, kiddo. Try to relax. You’re safe here.”
The boy writhed against the hold on him, groaning in agony. “Master . . .” he gasped out. “Master! Where are you?”
Jack felt his forehead crease in outrage. “‘Master!’ What, are you some kind of slave?” Was that what Padawan meant?
Obi-Wan tried to shake his head, eyes still firmly shut, but couldn’t manage it with Teal’c holding his face. “Not a slave. Padawan.”
Okay, so there went Jack’s first theory.
“What is your master’s name?” Carter asked. “Was he with you in that prison?”
Obi-Wan groaned again, his body shaking convulsively in the grip of overwhelming pain. “Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon Jinn. Jedi . . . Jedi Master. My master. Where is he? Master!”
Jack winced at the despairing plea, looking up to meet Carter’s eyes. “Can we risk more morphine?”
She shook her head painfully. “It hasn’t been long enough since the last dose. He should be sleeping now.”
“Obviously not.”
“Master!” Obi-Wan’s eyes popped open and searched frantically about the cave. “Master.” It was a sob now, sad and desperate.
Jack’s heart twisted in his chest, but he gently laid two fingers of his free hand across the boy’s dry, cracked lips. “Obi-Wan. I’m sorry, but I need you to be a little more quiet, okay? Just a little. Bad guys out there.”
The boy grunted, a puff of air against the colonel’s fingers, but met his gaze with semi-lucidity. “I . . . I understand. Forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Jack said easily. “If I were hurt as bad as you are I’d be yelling my head off.”
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut again, then looked back at the man, young eyes pleading, hopeful. “Is my master here? Have you seen him? I need him.”
Jack grimaced, heartbroken that he had to crush that hope, so beautiful and fragile. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t know where he is.”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes in resignation, not surprise.
“Perhaps you can tell us what you need from him.” Teal’c’s voice. His deep brown eyes gazed earnestly down at the boy. “Perhaps we may be able to provide it.”
“If we can, we will,” Jack promised instantly.
Obi-Wan just blinked hopelessly at Teal’c. “I need him to help me. I am too weak to meditate effectively. I need to enter a deep healing trance, or I will die-I know this. None of you are Jedi. How can you help me?” A shudder passed through his battered frame, and his next statement came in a frail whisper. “Also, I just wish he were here.”
Jack glanced wide-eyed between the two faces, one pale and young and twisted in pain, the other dark and sure and calm. “Healing meditation? Hey, Teal’c’s all about healing meditation. Aren’t you, T?”
The Jaffa nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Will I be able to assist you, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”
“But . . . you do not . . .” Obi-Wan paused, staring up at the strong face that bent over him. He swallowed dryly. “May I touch your mind?”
Teal’c nodded in grave assent. Obi-Wan gently freed his right hand from Carter’s grip, then reached up and laid his trembling fingers against the Jaffa’s cheek. The bruised eyelids slid shut, and the labored breathing slowed, steadied. The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck stood at attention. There was some seriously weird stuff going on here.
After several long moments, Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, blinking serenely. “It is . . . not the same. Our meditation focuses without, and yours focuses within. But you are strong and controlled, and very skilled in matters of the mind. You cannot connect with me. But perhaps I can . . . follow you? Go with you into deep meditation? My body is very, very weak, but my mind has a little left to give.”
“I am willing to do whatever you require, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“It might not work. Our disciplines are . . . very different.”
“If you wish to try, I gladly offer my services.”
Obi-Wan took several steadying breaths. “Yes. Please.”
“What should I do?”
“I will . . . connect my mind to yours. You may feel it, or you may not. When you are ready, begin to descend deeper and deeper into meditation, gradually, so that I can follow. If we are successful, it will appear that I am dead, as my heart and breathing will be very slow. Once the trance is that deep, I will be able to begin healing the wounds inside me.”
“I understand. Let us begin now.”
X
Well, there were entertaining things to watch. Hockey games. The Simpsons. Carter and Daniel getting each other worked up over something geeky. Teal’c doing his eyebrow dance. General Hammond trying to deal with another wacky day at work. Paint drying.
And then there was Teal’c trying to lead a kid from another galaxy into a deep healing trance.
Carter finally decided to catch a few Zs, letting Jack take “first watch,” as they called it, though they both knew that none of them were going to be getting much sleep as long as Obi-Wan was in danger. Though not the least bit entertained or enlightened by the experience, Jack couldn’t tear his eyes from where his Jaffa teammate sat, still holding the kid’s head in his lap, between his hands, trying to meditate. It didn’t seem to be going particularly well.
The eyelids of both participants fluttered now and then, small muscular tics disturbing the deep calm they were trying to achieve. Obi-Wan even gasped a time or two, his fists clenching in the blankets-Jack had released his hand at the boy’s request so as not to distract them. O’Neill had seen Teal’c when he was deep in kel’no’reem, and it didn’t look like this. It wasn’t working, after all.
Obi-Wan was still dying.
How many kids did he have to watch die? Too many teenage soldiers, too many faces still round with childhood, eyes still bright with invincibility, too many. One son, too many. Punishment for his sins. To watch. Damn the universe for choosing this one, too. He’d known the boy for five hours, now. It wasn’t enough. It was too much.
A scuff at his side had Jack looking over at Daniel’s profile, blue eyes still blurry with sleep, glasses hung askew. “What’s going on?”
Jack explained as succinctly as he could, keeping his voice low.
“Master, huh?” Daniel blinked, digesting that bit of information.
“Yep. Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master.”
“And Obi-Wan seemed anxious for his presence?”
“He said he wished he was here. And it was him the kid called out for when the pain and fever started getting to him.”
Daniel thoughtfully chewed his lip. “Master. Padawan. Master and Padawan. Must be a close relationship, perhaps familial. Or ‘Padawan’ could mean something like ‘apprentice’ or ‘student.’ You know, apprenticeship was common in Western culture up to as recently as a century and a half ago. Even today, some trades still use apprenticeship programs, and in Asia . . .”
“Yes, Daniel. Thanks. I get it. Padawan means ‘apprentice,’ not ‘slave.’”
Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open with a sharp inhalation, huge in his pale, sweaty face. Teal’c’s opened as well, and Jack could tell by the lines around his mouth that he was unhappy. Damn it.
“Not working,” the boy gritted out between panted breaths, his voice raw and aching. His hands twisted in the blanket, white-knuckled. “Can’t . . . connect.”
“Here, let me give you some water,” Daniel offered, leaning forward impulsively, compassionate as always even when he didn’t understand what was happening.
Jack and Teal’c raised the kid to a half-sitting position, leaning back against Teal’c’s chest, while Daniel fetched a canteen, knocking a few things over in his eagerness to help. Obi-Wan continued to pant, hands now clenching rhythmically in the fabric over Teal’c’s knees. The contact seemed to soothe him. By the time Daniel carefully tipped the canteen to his lips, one hand cradling the boy’s head, Obi-Wan’s breathing was almost under control.
When he was finished drinking, Obi-Wan made no move to draw away from Teal’c, still leaning bonelessly against him. A few of the creases in his forehead had eased away, though his face was still ghostly, covered with sweat. Jack pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away, figuring he could at least do that much.
“Okay. Okay. We’re okay.” It was all Jack could think to say. It had to be true, that was all.
Obi-Wan just blinked slowly. “No,” he said calmly, gently, explaining a difficult truth to someone who didn’t want to hear it. “I am not. I’m bleeding inside-my kidneys, my spleen. I can feel this through the Force. The healing trance failed. I couldn’t connect fully with Teal’c. He did all he could. The failure is mine.”
Jack looked away, unable to look at that brave, calm young face. So brave and so young. Not fair, damn it. Not fair.
“It was no fault of yours,” Teal’c disagreed, his voice tight with might have been anger . . . or pain. “We are, as you say, too different. I felt your mind reaching out to mine, but the connection kept faltering and slipping away. You are strong and skilled, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The fault lies with those who have mistreated you so badly.”
“This is not acceptable,” Jack growled. “You have to try again. You have to keep trying. It’ll work. It has to. Try again!”
“We tried, O’Neill,” Teal’c said gravely. “We tried many, many times before your voices roused us.”
“Is there anything that helps you connect?” Daniel asked suddenly, quickly, searching for solutions, ideas, anything. “When you, when you meditate with your master-or, or, or when you were younger, first learning how, was there something you did differently? Something so basic and elementary that it doesn’t, doesn’t even occur to you now?”
Obi-Wan shut his eyes, considering. “When I was an Initiate . . .” he began slowly, feeling his way through the memories. “I was very small . . . all the Masters were large in my vision, tall and looming. I was frightened . . . Master Yoda . . . no, not Master Yoda, Master Aishia . . . I sat in her lap, and she folded my hands in hers, so tiny against her palms, hard and callused . . . the hands of a warrior, but she was very gentle with me, as she was with all of the Younglings. She said she wanted to show me something wonderful, but I had to close my eyes. She led me in the First Meditation, her voice vibrating in her chest against my head. About the bird folding her wings to rest, and the calm lake in the middle of the mountains, never disturbed by voice or footstep.”
“Okay, okay.” Daniel nodded, taking all of this in with his usual wide-eyed fascination for other cultures. “So . . . full-body physical contact. Calm, gentleness. Spoken words guiding you to a place of stillness.”
Obi-Wan nodded wearily. “It has been many, many years since I needed . . . these things, to meditate.”
“But they might help now.” Daniel leaned forward, gently laying his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Jack’s right. You have to try again. I know you can do this.”
“Teal’c?” Jack asked. Can you do this?
Teal’c inclined his head. “I believe I can provide all of these things.”
With a gentle respect that was amazing in such a hardened warrior, Teal’c lifted the boy fully into his lap and settled him against his chest, taking the slender hands in his. Obi-Wan’s hands disappeared inside the dark fists, much like the images conjured by his rambling little memory. Daniel shook out a blanket and wrapped it around both Jaffa and boy, unwilling to risk Carter’s wrath if she woke and found Obi-Wan exposed to the night air.
“We, too, use spoken meditations at times,” Teal’c said. “I will modify one to coincide with one of my memories of training on Chulak. I will hold the memory in the forefront of my mind so that you may more easily connect with it, and thus with me.”
Obi-Wan nodded. His eyes flicked over to Daniel and Jack. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, and are trying to do,” he whispered. “You gifted me with great kindness, something I did not expect to find in this place. If this fails, do not blame yourselves. And do not grieve over-much. I will be one with the Force.”
The two men could only nod. Then Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and Teal’c began to speak.
“I walk through the forest as the sun sets. Around me is only silence. All weapons have been put away for the day, the warriors retired to their tents, the leaders sitting around the fire telling tales like old men with nothing new to say. I do not require their companionship. I seek the solitude of the forest, listening, but desiring to hear nothing. The trees grow strong and tall here. Their roots dig deep, drawing sustenance from the rocks. Their branches spread across the sky, obscuring the late daylight.”
It went on for a lot longer than that, but Jack tuned out, interested only in watching Obi-Wan’s face. The kid seemed to be relaxing more and more, the wrinkles of pain smoothing away. He even stopped sweating. His eyelids never twitched, after a couple of jerks at the beginning.
Teal’c’s voice deepened, softened, slowed . . . and eventually ceased. Jack barely noticed. He’d been watching the folds of the blanket over Obi-Wan’s chest rise and fall with his breathing. It was slowing gradually, fading away. He only hoped that this was what they had wanted to happen, that he wasn’t watching another kid die before his eyes.
“I think it’s working,” Daniel whispered, as if afraid that too loud a noise would break the spell.
“Yeah,” Jack murmured. “Yeah. I think it is.”
X
Jack got maybe three hours of sleep, and they were among the sweetest and most restful he’d had for quite a long time. He woke in the gray pre-dawn to find Carter and Daniel sleeping and Teal’c standing watch, crouched at the entrance of the cave. His gaze instinctively sought Obi-Wan. And then, of course, he had to slink over and check more thoroughly, not believing his eyes.
But his eyes had not deceived him. The boy was sleeping like a baby in his mother’s arms, snugly wrapped in thermal blankets, his cheek resting on his hand. A cheek which, incidentally, had some color in it for the first time Jack had seen. Nice. His breath was still way too slow for normal, indicating that the Jedi Padawan was still in the middle of his healing thing, but he looked a lot more comfortable and healthy. And it had only been a few hours.
Teal’c saw his CO’s curious glance and took it for the order to report that it was. “Our efforts at cooperative meditation were successful,” he said, just loud enough for the colonel to hear, not loud enough to rouse their teammates and guest. “After a sufficient period, I was able to feel Obi-Wan Kenobi’s internal injuries healing. When he was deep enough in meditation, though, he released my mind, and I cannot connect to him myself, so I am uncertain of his current condition.”
“Kid looks good,” Jack murmured. “Well, better. Lots better. We shouldn’t bother him, though.”
“That would be unwise,” the Jaffa agreed.
“And our friends from the prison?”
“I am aware of several search parties in the valley. These warriors are not well-trained in stealth.” Teal’c’s face, impassive as it was, revealed his disdain for this neglect of necessary skills. “I cannot ascertain their precise positions, however.”
“All right. When Carter wakes we’ll scout out the area, see what’s up. Let them sleep a little longer, though.” They seemed to be safe enough for the time being, and it had been a weird, trying night for all of them.
Carter woke on her own as the first fingers of dawn probed into the cave through the branches, clear and cool and sharp as lemons. She always did wake promptly at first light, unless she was wounded or drugged or depressed, and sometimes even then. Good officer, good scientist, good woman. She nodded at Jack’s quiet instructions, and he and Teal’c headed out to prove their stealth skills to the unwary natives.
They needed them, too. Teal’c walked soft-pawed as a panther, Jack the wolf fading gray into the shadows beside him, but they couldn’t make the Stargate. The valley was lousy with men in dark uniforms, some stomping and cursing and swinging their weapons haphazardly at the undergrowth, some just walking around with dead, incurious eyes. They weren’t trying to be stealthy. They were trying to flush out their quarry with terror and taunts.
In ten minutes, Jack learned more specifics about Obi-Wan’s experience in that place than he had ever wanted. Nope, this was not a nice, ethical culture where Daniel could make friends and exchange ideas. If these people belonged to the Republic the kid had spoken of with such respect and admiration, Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to know what else there was in this galaxy.
At least they had no idea what that round stone thing in the middle of their forest was.
The two travelers made their way up to the ridge and sneaked along until they could view the prison through binoculars, gathering more intel. The dark buildings were decidedly more lively than they had been the day before, bursting with activity, like an anthill stirred by a bully’s stick. An anthill full of big, black, mean, rainforest-type ants-the kind that made other ants their slaves. Vehicles were definitely coming in and out of the gate now. Hovering vehicles. Jack did not let the coolness factor of this distract him. Was one young boy this important to these bastards?
Jack’s gut clenched as a particularly weird-shaped vehicle pulled up in the courtyard and started spilling its contents. These guys looked different-specialized uniforms, different patches on their shoulders. They weren’t carrying weapons. They were holding leashes, and on the other end of each leash . . . Jack would have called it a dog, except that it so obviously wasn’t a dog. Each canine snout was almost instantly pressed to the ground, snuffling around. There were four of them.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “This galaxy has bloodhounds.”
Teal’c inclined his head. Whether or not he was familiar with that word, he knew what this meant. No more words were needed. They took off for the cave.
“They may lose the scent at the point where I began to carry Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Teal’c observed. Though no one else would have heard agitation in his voice, Jack knew it was there.
“You be willing to bet on that?” he hissed.
Of course he already knew the answer. Neither of them would ever take that wager.
Back at the ranch, Daniel was sitting up and rubbing his eyes, every line of his body begging for coffee that he wouldn’t ask for when he knew they needed to be keeping a low profile. Carter knelt by Obi-Wan, unwrapping many of the bandages she had applied with such care and concern last night. Jack walked over to her and stood looking down at the boy, for the moment containing his urgent need to leave, though not without some difficulty.
“Look at this, sir.” Awe in her voice, Carter pulled back blood-soaked gauze from the boy’s upper arm, still ugly and dark red with life spilled. The wound underneath looked like a bad abrasion, something a kid would get falling off his bike, not the kind of gaping wound that could release that much blood. “Last night this wound was at least three times as deep and wide. It was still bleeding, sir. And now . . .”
Jack nodded tersely. Yeah, amazing. Even after years of knowing Teal’c, who also had a completely unfair ability to heal, it didn’t really get any less cool. But . . . bloodhounds.
“Is he good to go?” That was the only thing that mattered. Behind him, he could hear Teal’c already packing their stuff back into their kits, Daniel helping him, though he didn’t understand what was going on.
“Go, sir? I doubt it. The worst wounds seem to be well on the way to healing, but as you can see even from the bruises on his face, most of his injuries haven’t changed at all. Apparently he’s able to prioritize while doing his healing meditation. But he’s nowhere near finished, no. And I don’t know what kind of harm it might do to rouse him prematurely. This is completely outside our understanding, sir.”
Jack glanced around, saw Daniel and Teal’c standing with their packs on their shoulders, watching. “They have some kind of tracking animals, Carter. Like dogs. We saw them sniffing around, saw them already on the trail.”
Two sets of blue eyes widened. “What are our options?” Carter asked.
“Do we have any?” Daniel asked.
The colonel grimaced, ticking off tactical options in his head. Fighting was not a good idea-they were outnumbered and outgunned, and they still wanted to make friends in this galaxy, maybe. Running probably wouldn’t work either-if those not-dog things could find them here, they could find them anywhere.
“Jack?”
He raised a hand in the gesture that meant, Give me five minutes, Daniel, geez. He didn’t have an answer. There weren’t any good ones. And he didn’t have time to come up with different ones.
Then came the insistent beeping of the portable alarm, that handy little gift from Uncle Sam, crying electronic warning that their perimeter had already been breached. No more time.
They were here.
Part 3
I wonder if anyone is reading this.
Excerpt:
--
How many kids did he have to watch die? Too many teenage soldiers, too many faces still round with childhood, eyes still bright with invincibility, too many. One son, too many. Punishment for his sins. To watch. Damn the universe for choosing this one, too. He’d known the boy for five hours, now. It wasn’t enough. It was too much.
--
Part 1
Part 2: The Bird Folding Her Wings
When it had been an hour with no sign of pursuit, Jack built a small fire. By that time Obi-Wan was already lost in fever, delirious, stirring restlessly on the blankets. Sometimes he fought against the hands that tried to soothe him, and sometimes he grabbed them and held on with all his strength, panting through his teeth to keep from screaming. Carter’s face gradually became more pale and pinched as the interminable night wore on, and Jack didn’t have to ask to know that she thought the kid might be dying.
Daniel finally succumbed to the lateness and lack of coffee, sacking out on the other side of the cave. Jack took his place at Obi-Wan’s side, holding the trembling hand in his, wiping away the sweat. Teal’c sat cross-legged in kel’no’reem, holding the kid’s head in his lap, bracing the pale face between his rock-steady hands.
“Sir, we have to get Obi-Wan back to the SGC, or he doesn’t stand a chance.” Carter’s voice was low and urgent. “He definitely has internal injuries, and I think he might be bleeding out. Even if we were in the infirmary now, Janet might not be able to save him.”
Jack hated having to make these kind of calls, choosing safety and death over danger and life. But there wasn’t a choice here. He had to explain it, as much for himself as for her. She already knew what he was going to say-she just wanted to hear it from him. “Carter, it’s two miles back to the Stargate. Even if those prison guys have called off the search ‘til daylight, you know they’ve posted guards and search parties all over. They know that Obi-Wan’s gone to ground, and they’re waiting for the slightest hint of where he is so they can swoop in and grab him. We don’t have the manpower or weaponry to fight these guys. Look, I like the kid as much as you do, but I can’t risk the team. If he can just hold on ‘til morning, we’ll be able to scout around and figure out our options.”
Carter shook her head grimly. “I’m not sure Obi-Wan has that long, sir.”
“Sure he does,” Jack said with great confidence. More than he felt. “He’s a tough kid. Toughest I’ve ever met. ‘Cept maybe Skaara.” And Daniel.
She smiled tightly. “Of course, sir.”
Obi-Wan moaned, squeezing Jack’s hand painfully. Jack winced at the sensation of bones grinding together, but squeezed back, letting him know he wasn’t alone. “Hey, kiddo. Try to relax. You’re safe here.”
The boy writhed against the hold on him, groaning in agony. “Master . . .” he gasped out. “Master! Where are you?”
Jack felt his forehead crease in outrage. “‘Master!’ What, are you some kind of slave?” Was that what Padawan meant?
Obi-Wan tried to shake his head, eyes still firmly shut, but couldn’t manage it with Teal’c holding his face. “Not a slave. Padawan.”
Okay, so there went Jack’s first theory.
“What is your master’s name?” Carter asked. “Was he with you in that prison?”
Obi-Wan groaned again, his body shaking convulsively in the grip of overwhelming pain. “Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon Jinn. Jedi . . . Jedi Master. My master. Where is he? Master!”
Jack winced at the despairing plea, looking up to meet Carter’s eyes. “Can we risk more morphine?”
She shook her head painfully. “It hasn’t been long enough since the last dose. He should be sleeping now.”
“Obviously not.”
“Master!” Obi-Wan’s eyes popped open and searched frantically about the cave. “Master.” It was a sob now, sad and desperate.
Jack’s heart twisted in his chest, but he gently laid two fingers of his free hand across the boy’s dry, cracked lips. “Obi-Wan. I’m sorry, but I need you to be a little more quiet, okay? Just a little. Bad guys out there.”
The boy grunted, a puff of air against the colonel’s fingers, but met his gaze with semi-lucidity. “I . . . I understand. Forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Jack said easily. “If I were hurt as bad as you are I’d be yelling my head off.”
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut again, then looked back at the man, young eyes pleading, hopeful. “Is my master here? Have you seen him? I need him.”
Jack grimaced, heartbroken that he had to crush that hope, so beautiful and fragile. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t know where he is.”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes in resignation, not surprise.
“Perhaps you can tell us what you need from him.” Teal’c’s voice. His deep brown eyes gazed earnestly down at the boy. “Perhaps we may be able to provide it.”
“If we can, we will,” Jack promised instantly.
Obi-Wan just blinked hopelessly at Teal’c. “I need him to help me. I am too weak to meditate effectively. I need to enter a deep healing trance, or I will die-I know this. None of you are Jedi. How can you help me?” A shudder passed through his battered frame, and his next statement came in a frail whisper. “Also, I just wish he were here.”
Jack glanced wide-eyed between the two faces, one pale and young and twisted in pain, the other dark and sure and calm. “Healing meditation? Hey, Teal’c’s all about healing meditation. Aren’t you, T?”
The Jaffa nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Will I be able to assist you, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”
“But . . . you do not . . .” Obi-Wan paused, staring up at the strong face that bent over him. He swallowed dryly. “May I touch your mind?”
Teal’c nodded in grave assent. Obi-Wan gently freed his right hand from Carter’s grip, then reached up and laid his trembling fingers against the Jaffa’s cheek. The bruised eyelids slid shut, and the labored breathing slowed, steadied. The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck stood at attention. There was some seriously weird stuff going on here.
After several long moments, Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, blinking serenely. “It is . . . not the same. Our meditation focuses without, and yours focuses within. But you are strong and controlled, and very skilled in matters of the mind. You cannot connect with me. But perhaps I can . . . follow you? Go with you into deep meditation? My body is very, very weak, but my mind has a little left to give.”
“I am willing to do whatever you require, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“It might not work. Our disciplines are . . . very different.”
“If you wish to try, I gladly offer my services.”
Obi-Wan took several steadying breaths. “Yes. Please.”
“What should I do?”
“I will . . . connect my mind to yours. You may feel it, or you may not. When you are ready, begin to descend deeper and deeper into meditation, gradually, so that I can follow. If we are successful, it will appear that I am dead, as my heart and breathing will be very slow. Once the trance is that deep, I will be able to begin healing the wounds inside me.”
“I understand. Let us begin now.”
X
Well, there were entertaining things to watch. Hockey games. The Simpsons. Carter and Daniel getting each other worked up over something geeky. Teal’c doing his eyebrow dance. General Hammond trying to deal with another wacky day at work. Paint drying.
And then there was Teal’c trying to lead a kid from another galaxy into a deep healing trance.
Carter finally decided to catch a few Zs, letting Jack take “first watch,” as they called it, though they both knew that none of them were going to be getting much sleep as long as Obi-Wan was in danger. Though not the least bit entertained or enlightened by the experience, Jack couldn’t tear his eyes from where his Jaffa teammate sat, still holding the kid’s head in his lap, between his hands, trying to meditate. It didn’t seem to be going particularly well.
The eyelids of both participants fluttered now and then, small muscular tics disturbing the deep calm they were trying to achieve. Obi-Wan even gasped a time or two, his fists clenching in the blankets-Jack had released his hand at the boy’s request so as not to distract them. O’Neill had seen Teal’c when he was deep in kel’no’reem, and it didn’t look like this. It wasn’t working, after all.
Obi-Wan was still dying.
How many kids did he have to watch die? Too many teenage soldiers, too many faces still round with childhood, eyes still bright with invincibility, too many. One son, too many. Punishment for his sins. To watch. Damn the universe for choosing this one, too. He’d known the boy for five hours, now. It wasn’t enough. It was too much.
A scuff at his side had Jack looking over at Daniel’s profile, blue eyes still blurry with sleep, glasses hung askew. “What’s going on?”
Jack explained as succinctly as he could, keeping his voice low.
“Master, huh?” Daniel blinked, digesting that bit of information.
“Yep. Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master.”
“And Obi-Wan seemed anxious for his presence?”
“He said he wished he was here. And it was him the kid called out for when the pain and fever started getting to him.”
Daniel thoughtfully chewed his lip. “Master. Padawan. Master and Padawan. Must be a close relationship, perhaps familial. Or ‘Padawan’ could mean something like ‘apprentice’ or ‘student.’ You know, apprenticeship was common in Western culture up to as recently as a century and a half ago. Even today, some trades still use apprenticeship programs, and in Asia . . .”
“Yes, Daniel. Thanks. I get it. Padawan means ‘apprentice,’ not ‘slave.’”
Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open with a sharp inhalation, huge in his pale, sweaty face. Teal’c’s opened as well, and Jack could tell by the lines around his mouth that he was unhappy. Damn it.
“Not working,” the boy gritted out between panted breaths, his voice raw and aching. His hands twisted in the blanket, white-knuckled. “Can’t . . . connect.”
“Here, let me give you some water,” Daniel offered, leaning forward impulsively, compassionate as always even when he didn’t understand what was happening.
Jack and Teal’c raised the kid to a half-sitting position, leaning back against Teal’c’s chest, while Daniel fetched a canteen, knocking a few things over in his eagerness to help. Obi-Wan continued to pant, hands now clenching rhythmically in the fabric over Teal’c’s knees. The contact seemed to soothe him. By the time Daniel carefully tipped the canteen to his lips, one hand cradling the boy’s head, Obi-Wan’s breathing was almost under control.
When he was finished drinking, Obi-Wan made no move to draw away from Teal’c, still leaning bonelessly against him. A few of the creases in his forehead had eased away, though his face was still ghostly, covered with sweat. Jack pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away, figuring he could at least do that much.
“Okay. Okay. We’re okay.” It was all Jack could think to say. It had to be true, that was all.
Obi-Wan just blinked slowly. “No,” he said calmly, gently, explaining a difficult truth to someone who didn’t want to hear it. “I am not. I’m bleeding inside-my kidneys, my spleen. I can feel this through the Force. The healing trance failed. I couldn’t connect fully with Teal’c. He did all he could. The failure is mine.”
Jack looked away, unable to look at that brave, calm young face. So brave and so young. Not fair, damn it. Not fair.
“It was no fault of yours,” Teal’c disagreed, his voice tight with might have been anger . . . or pain. “We are, as you say, too different. I felt your mind reaching out to mine, but the connection kept faltering and slipping away. You are strong and skilled, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The fault lies with those who have mistreated you so badly.”
“This is not acceptable,” Jack growled. “You have to try again. You have to keep trying. It’ll work. It has to. Try again!”
“We tried, O’Neill,” Teal’c said gravely. “We tried many, many times before your voices roused us.”
“Is there anything that helps you connect?” Daniel asked suddenly, quickly, searching for solutions, ideas, anything. “When you, when you meditate with your master-or, or, or when you were younger, first learning how, was there something you did differently? Something so basic and elementary that it doesn’t, doesn’t even occur to you now?”
Obi-Wan shut his eyes, considering. “When I was an Initiate . . .” he began slowly, feeling his way through the memories. “I was very small . . . all the Masters were large in my vision, tall and looming. I was frightened . . . Master Yoda . . . no, not Master Yoda, Master Aishia . . . I sat in her lap, and she folded my hands in hers, so tiny against her palms, hard and callused . . . the hands of a warrior, but she was very gentle with me, as she was with all of the Younglings. She said she wanted to show me something wonderful, but I had to close my eyes. She led me in the First Meditation, her voice vibrating in her chest against my head. About the bird folding her wings to rest, and the calm lake in the middle of the mountains, never disturbed by voice or footstep.”
“Okay, okay.” Daniel nodded, taking all of this in with his usual wide-eyed fascination for other cultures. “So . . . full-body physical contact. Calm, gentleness. Spoken words guiding you to a place of stillness.”
Obi-Wan nodded wearily. “It has been many, many years since I needed . . . these things, to meditate.”
“But they might help now.” Daniel leaned forward, gently laying his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Jack’s right. You have to try again. I know you can do this.”
“Teal’c?” Jack asked. Can you do this?
Teal’c inclined his head. “I believe I can provide all of these things.”
With a gentle respect that was amazing in such a hardened warrior, Teal’c lifted the boy fully into his lap and settled him against his chest, taking the slender hands in his. Obi-Wan’s hands disappeared inside the dark fists, much like the images conjured by his rambling little memory. Daniel shook out a blanket and wrapped it around both Jaffa and boy, unwilling to risk Carter’s wrath if she woke and found Obi-Wan exposed to the night air.
“We, too, use spoken meditations at times,” Teal’c said. “I will modify one to coincide with one of my memories of training on Chulak. I will hold the memory in the forefront of my mind so that you may more easily connect with it, and thus with me.”
Obi-Wan nodded. His eyes flicked over to Daniel and Jack. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, and are trying to do,” he whispered. “You gifted me with great kindness, something I did not expect to find in this place. If this fails, do not blame yourselves. And do not grieve over-much. I will be one with the Force.”
The two men could only nod. Then Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and Teal’c began to speak.
“I walk through the forest as the sun sets. Around me is only silence. All weapons have been put away for the day, the warriors retired to their tents, the leaders sitting around the fire telling tales like old men with nothing new to say. I do not require their companionship. I seek the solitude of the forest, listening, but desiring to hear nothing. The trees grow strong and tall here. Their roots dig deep, drawing sustenance from the rocks. Their branches spread across the sky, obscuring the late daylight.”
It went on for a lot longer than that, but Jack tuned out, interested only in watching Obi-Wan’s face. The kid seemed to be relaxing more and more, the wrinkles of pain smoothing away. He even stopped sweating. His eyelids never twitched, after a couple of jerks at the beginning.
Teal’c’s voice deepened, softened, slowed . . . and eventually ceased. Jack barely noticed. He’d been watching the folds of the blanket over Obi-Wan’s chest rise and fall with his breathing. It was slowing gradually, fading away. He only hoped that this was what they had wanted to happen, that he wasn’t watching another kid die before his eyes.
“I think it’s working,” Daniel whispered, as if afraid that too loud a noise would break the spell.
“Yeah,” Jack murmured. “Yeah. I think it is.”
X
Jack got maybe three hours of sleep, and they were among the sweetest and most restful he’d had for quite a long time. He woke in the gray pre-dawn to find Carter and Daniel sleeping and Teal’c standing watch, crouched at the entrance of the cave. His gaze instinctively sought Obi-Wan. And then, of course, he had to slink over and check more thoroughly, not believing his eyes.
But his eyes had not deceived him. The boy was sleeping like a baby in his mother’s arms, snugly wrapped in thermal blankets, his cheek resting on his hand. A cheek which, incidentally, had some color in it for the first time Jack had seen. Nice. His breath was still way too slow for normal, indicating that the Jedi Padawan was still in the middle of his healing thing, but he looked a lot more comfortable and healthy. And it had only been a few hours.
Teal’c saw his CO’s curious glance and took it for the order to report that it was. “Our efforts at cooperative meditation were successful,” he said, just loud enough for the colonel to hear, not loud enough to rouse their teammates and guest. “After a sufficient period, I was able to feel Obi-Wan Kenobi’s internal injuries healing. When he was deep enough in meditation, though, he released my mind, and I cannot connect to him myself, so I am uncertain of his current condition.”
“Kid looks good,” Jack murmured. “Well, better. Lots better. We shouldn’t bother him, though.”
“That would be unwise,” the Jaffa agreed.
“And our friends from the prison?”
“I am aware of several search parties in the valley. These warriors are not well-trained in stealth.” Teal’c’s face, impassive as it was, revealed his disdain for this neglect of necessary skills. “I cannot ascertain their precise positions, however.”
“All right. When Carter wakes we’ll scout out the area, see what’s up. Let them sleep a little longer, though.” They seemed to be safe enough for the time being, and it had been a weird, trying night for all of them.
Carter woke on her own as the first fingers of dawn probed into the cave through the branches, clear and cool and sharp as lemons. She always did wake promptly at first light, unless she was wounded or drugged or depressed, and sometimes even then. Good officer, good scientist, good woman. She nodded at Jack’s quiet instructions, and he and Teal’c headed out to prove their stealth skills to the unwary natives.
They needed them, too. Teal’c walked soft-pawed as a panther, Jack the wolf fading gray into the shadows beside him, but they couldn’t make the Stargate. The valley was lousy with men in dark uniforms, some stomping and cursing and swinging their weapons haphazardly at the undergrowth, some just walking around with dead, incurious eyes. They weren’t trying to be stealthy. They were trying to flush out their quarry with terror and taunts.
In ten minutes, Jack learned more specifics about Obi-Wan’s experience in that place than he had ever wanted. Nope, this was not a nice, ethical culture where Daniel could make friends and exchange ideas. If these people belonged to the Republic the kid had spoken of with such respect and admiration, Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to know what else there was in this galaxy.
At least they had no idea what that round stone thing in the middle of their forest was.
The two travelers made their way up to the ridge and sneaked along until they could view the prison through binoculars, gathering more intel. The dark buildings were decidedly more lively than they had been the day before, bursting with activity, like an anthill stirred by a bully’s stick. An anthill full of big, black, mean, rainforest-type ants-the kind that made other ants their slaves. Vehicles were definitely coming in and out of the gate now. Hovering vehicles. Jack did not let the coolness factor of this distract him. Was one young boy this important to these bastards?
Jack’s gut clenched as a particularly weird-shaped vehicle pulled up in the courtyard and started spilling its contents. These guys looked different-specialized uniforms, different patches on their shoulders. They weren’t carrying weapons. They were holding leashes, and on the other end of each leash . . . Jack would have called it a dog, except that it so obviously wasn’t a dog. Each canine snout was almost instantly pressed to the ground, snuffling around. There were four of them.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “This galaxy has bloodhounds.”
Teal’c inclined his head. Whether or not he was familiar with that word, he knew what this meant. No more words were needed. They took off for the cave.
“They may lose the scent at the point where I began to carry Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Teal’c observed. Though no one else would have heard agitation in his voice, Jack knew it was there.
“You be willing to bet on that?” he hissed.
Of course he already knew the answer. Neither of them would ever take that wager.
Back at the ranch, Daniel was sitting up and rubbing his eyes, every line of his body begging for coffee that he wouldn’t ask for when he knew they needed to be keeping a low profile. Carter knelt by Obi-Wan, unwrapping many of the bandages she had applied with such care and concern last night. Jack walked over to her and stood looking down at the boy, for the moment containing his urgent need to leave, though not without some difficulty.
“Look at this, sir.” Awe in her voice, Carter pulled back blood-soaked gauze from the boy’s upper arm, still ugly and dark red with life spilled. The wound underneath looked like a bad abrasion, something a kid would get falling off his bike, not the kind of gaping wound that could release that much blood. “Last night this wound was at least three times as deep and wide. It was still bleeding, sir. And now . . .”
Jack nodded tersely. Yeah, amazing. Even after years of knowing Teal’c, who also had a completely unfair ability to heal, it didn’t really get any less cool. But . . . bloodhounds.
“Is he good to go?” That was the only thing that mattered. Behind him, he could hear Teal’c already packing their stuff back into their kits, Daniel helping him, though he didn’t understand what was going on.
“Go, sir? I doubt it. The worst wounds seem to be well on the way to healing, but as you can see even from the bruises on his face, most of his injuries haven’t changed at all. Apparently he’s able to prioritize while doing his healing meditation. But he’s nowhere near finished, no. And I don’t know what kind of harm it might do to rouse him prematurely. This is completely outside our understanding, sir.”
Jack glanced around, saw Daniel and Teal’c standing with their packs on their shoulders, watching. “They have some kind of tracking animals, Carter. Like dogs. We saw them sniffing around, saw them already on the trail.”
Two sets of blue eyes widened. “What are our options?” Carter asked.
“Do we have any?” Daniel asked.
The colonel grimaced, ticking off tactical options in his head. Fighting was not a good idea-they were outnumbered and outgunned, and they still wanted to make friends in this galaxy, maybe. Running probably wouldn’t work either-if those not-dog things could find them here, they could find them anywhere.
“Jack?”
He raised a hand in the gesture that meant, Give me five minutes, Daniel, geez. He didn’t have an answer. There weren’t any good ones. And he didn’t have time to come up with different ones.
Then came the insistent beeping of the portable alarm, that handy little gift from Uncle Sam, crying electronic warning that their perimeter had already been breached. No more time.
They were here.
Part 3